


Oops?

by Breathesgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Double double toil and trouble, F/M, Hallowe’en, Harmony & Co., Ritual Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 22:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21026072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breathesgirl/pseuds/Breathesgirl
Summary: SummaryHarry died at the Battle of Hogwarts. His ghost has been with Hermione for the last year. Now, it's Halloween, and time for Hermione to bring her love back to life with a ritual that will change magic forever





	Oops?

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Harry died at the Battle of Hogwarts. His ghost has been with Hermione for the last year. Now, it's Halloween, and time for Hermione to bring her love back to life with a ritual that will change magic forever.
> 
> This piece was written for Harmony & Co’s Halloween Competition: Double Double, Toil, and Trouble. All canon characters, plots, dialogue, and situations from the Harry Potter series belongs to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work. 
> 
> I got the ritual information from https://www.learnreligions.com/how-to-cast-a-circle-2562859

Hermione sat staring into the fire, contemplating what she would be doing this Hallowe’en instead of watching all the kids dressed as their favorite superhero or book character as they knocked on a neighbor’s door so they could be given sugary treats. 

It had been more than a year since the conclusion of the Second Wizarding War and Voldemort’s death. The trouble was, Harry had died as well. He had died at the hand of Voldemort, who had shot another Avada Kadavra at him just to be sure. While he was distracted with his gloating, Neville had snuck up behind him with the sword of Gryffindor and finally ended his reign of terror.

At the conclusion, Hermione hadn’t known how to feel or what to do with herself. One moment she wanted to celebrate the death of the one person, if he could be called a person at that point, who had made their lives hell during her time at Hogwarts: The next moment she wanted to cry and scream that it was unfair! Harry was supposed to survive, and ask her out on a date, and they were supposed to live happily ever after.

That hadn’t happened though, at least not in the conventional sense. Harry  **was** dead, there was no doubt about that: she’d seen his body and attended his funeral. He’d been laid to rest right next to his parents in Godric’s Hollow. She’d even gone back the night of the funeral and changed the names on the headstones. Harry had hated his fame in life: she’d be damned if he would have to put up with it in the afterlife; she’d changed the ones for his parents as well. They still read properly to the non-magical world, but anyone magical would see Jane and John Doe, and their infant son Henry.

Finally, just a month after the end of the war she’d gone to Australia to find her parents and try to get some distance from her grief for a little bit. Her parents had decided they liked the weather Down Under much better than the drizzly British weather and stayed in Australia: Hermione hadn’t been happy with their decision, but they were adults and could make their own decisions. They’d come back for a short time to gather what they wanted from what Hermione had put away in storage, but ultimately they left the life she’d thought they wanted and gone back to where they now called home.

The day Hermione’s parents had left, she’d been depressed and second guessing every decision she’d ever made when something, or someone, appeared in front of her. At first, whatever it was had simply, but annoyingly, been a flicker in her peripheral vision: almost solid, but when she turned to look, it wasn't there at all. After nearly an hour of this lunacy she’d huffed and headed off to her room to get some much needed sleep.

She’d returned from the loo to find Harry, at least it looked like Harry, sitting on her bed! “Harry!” She’d exclaimed as she flung herself at him, only to go right through him and land on her bed. The tears started forming right then, she was definitely ready for the loony bin! She was seeing Harry when she was awake now, not just in her dreams!

“Shhhhhh,” she heard. Harry tried to hug her, but his arms simply passed over her, leaving a tingly, cold feeling instead of the comfort she so desperately needed. After several minutes Hermione was finally calm enough to ask, “how are you here?”

Harry smiled at her, “you know ghosts are possible Hermione,” he’d said, although he did sound sad.

They’d talked far into the night then: Hermione catching her best friend up on what had happened after he’d died. The smile on his face when he heard that Neville had been the one to finally end Voldemort had stretched ear to ear with pride, “you know he was the other baby who might have been able to fulfill the prophecy, he was born just the day before me,” he’d said, happy his friend had grown into such a fine man, but sad, too, that the world had come down to children fighting a war the adults should have ended years before.

He’d visited Hermione often since then, although he also spent a great deal of time with the parents he’d barely remembered except in quick snatches if something tickled a deeply buried memory.

Finally, on the anniversary of The Battle of Hogwarts, as the Prophet had dubbed it, he’d shown up and looked more depressed than she could remember ever seeing him: she figured it was because of the date and let it be, but Harry brought it up. “Mi,” he’d said despondently, “there’s no sense of time on the other side, so I never know what the date is when I come to you. It could be later the same day, the next day, or the next month when I return and I don’t know until I get here. I didn’t realize what today was when I came, or I would have stayed away.”

“Oh Harry,” she’d said sadly. There were times it was really hard to see him like this, as a ghost, and when he was sad and hurting was the worst of them. She wanted so badly to comfort him, to hold him, but she couldn’t.

“I had plans, you know?” He’d continued, “big plans. I wanted to ask you out. I wanted to marry you, and have babies with you, and grow old with you. But that bastard,” he spat, “not only took my childhood from me, he took my adulthood too.” They were both crying now, until what Harry’d actually said penetrated the fog of sadness and depression the day had brought on, “wait. You wanted to marry me? Have babies with me?” She’d asked incredulously. That had been her dream since fourth year, she just hadn’t thought he’d felt the same way. “Really?”

Harry gave her his own incredulous look and nodded, “yeah, of course. Who else would I have chosen? Who else was there when the times were tough? Who supported me through all the ridiculousness that was my time at Hogwarts?”

“Ginny wanted that spot, you know,” she said, jealousy colouring her tone slightly.

Harry laughed, “my number one fangirl, you mean?” He shook his head, “wasn’t ever going to happen! She was obsessed with The Boy Who Lived, not me, Harry Potter. And why would I want to marry someone who was so obsessed? Love is much more enduring, at least that’s what Mum said when she let me know just what she thought of  _ that  _ match. ‘Harry James Potter! Dating someone who looks like she should be your sister? She could have been my daughter!’ Her hands were waving, and I think the tone of voice was more like a screech than anything else.”

Hermione laughed at Harry’s imitation of his mother, which had been his intention. He reached out to touch her face, knowing it was impossible since ghosts cannot affect the physical world. 

Just as his hand touched Hermione’s cheek he flickered solid for a split second and she actually felt his touch! Her eyes flew open, “Harry?!” 

He looked just as surprised as she did, then he had a thought, “Mi, it’s happening! It’s really happening!”

“What’s happening Harry?” She asked curiously.

He shook his head, “It must have been the exact moment of my death.” At her look of confusion he continued, “that’s all I can tell you Hermione, or they won’t let me visit any more.”

“What? Why?”

Harry sighed, “because I would have started breaking the laws of death. The main one, in fact: The one that says we can’t tell those who are still living what goes on on the other side of the Veil.”

Hermione huffed and nodded, not in acceptance, but resignation: she’d rather have Harry continue visiting and feel his touch occasionally, than know exactly what it was he was talking about. Besides, she could always research it in her free time.

After the first time Harry visited her, she’d told Ron what had happened. Of course, being the jealous prat he could be at times, he demanded to know why Harry hadn’t visited him, then demanded she come and get him the next time Harry appeared to her if Ron hadn’t already seen him. Later that evening she sent for Ron; he was excited. He was going to get to see his best mate again!

Hermione knew Ron wouldn’t be able to see Harry, that was one of the things Harry had been able to explain. Only those who were loyal through and through would be able to see him outside of where he’d been killed: he’d be able to be seen at Hogwarts, especially around the spot where Voldemort had finally ended him, by one and all, but only those who had been totally loyal, from the very beginning to the bitter end, would be able to see him outside of Hogwarts. And Ron had only been loyal when the situation suited him. After all, someone who was loyal wouldn’t have left in a snit during the horcrux hunt: he might have taken a time out once he’d taken the locket off, and gone off for some quiet time in order to calm down, but Ron hadn’t, he’d gone home to Mummy where’d he’d gotten three square meals a day, had running water and bathroom facilities, and a real bed to sleep in, and a house with actual heating. Sure, they’d had a tent with wizarding space and special amenities, but wizarding space still didn’t give you three square meals. It didn’t provide you with hot water when it needed some source of water in the first place. It could provide heat, true, but in a drafty tent it didn’t help very much.

“Very funny Hermione,” Ron had spat when she pointed to the spot where Harry was standing. “I didn’t think you’d be in league with George! That’s just...” he shook his head as he stomped away, unable to articulate his disappointment, both in not seeing his best mate, but also in the fact that Hermione, of all people, would play such a trick on him.

Harry and Hermione both sighed, disappointed that Ron hadn’t been able to see Harry, “I’m sorry Harry,” Hermione said as she plopped down in her favorite chair, “I guess he wasn’t as loyal as I’d hoped.”

Harry knelt down in front of the one person who’d always been there for him through everything, “it’s okay Hermione,” he’d said, trying to sound upbeat but failing miserably. At her sceptical look he smiled wanly, “alright, so I was hoping too. I’m disappointed that he wasn’t what I thought he was, al least up until fourth year. As we grew and matured, he never really did: I can see that now. He was always jealous of me; my fame, my fortune, and anything else he thought he should have had that I did. I couldn’t see it then, not in the thick of things, and certainly not during the summers when I was forced away from everybody.” He shimmered quickly as he wiped a stray tear from his friend’s cheek: they both savoured that momentary feeling before he faded away, too disappointed to be able to keep his form for the moment.

* * *

Hermione looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and gave a small smile: it was almost time. She checked everything over once again to make sure she had everything she needed in order to do what needed to be done, then packed it away carefully in her beaded bag and apparated away to Potter Cottage in Godric’s Hollow: the ritual required quite a few things, the most important were the place where it all began, and the body of one who had loved him selflessly, without restriction.

The cottage had been easy: Harry had been thoughtful enough, and practical enough, to have a will made up and left a copy with her and the Goblins. He’d left most of the Potter estate to her, and the Black estate he’d left to Teddy in trust until he turned 21, with her as executrix so the estates wouldn’t be absorbed by the Ministry or go stagnant.

The body of one who loved him unconditionally was definitely harder, until she’d remembered a certain house elf who’d helped them immeasurably: Dobby. Getting his body had been difficult. She’d known he was buried near Shell Cottage, but the exact spot was a little more difficult since she’d been laid up so hadn’t exactly seen it. Finally, Harry had been able to show her. Dobby had died with a smile on his face, which had made them both happy.

Hermione looked around the village and shuddered, remembering her first visit that Christmas Eve almost two years before. She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of children’s laughter; she smiled as she watched the witches and wizards, goblins and orcs march along the street under their parent’s watchful gaze: the sun was just starting to set, so it was the younger crowd going door to door. She wandered closer because she thought she heard some of the children singing: she did! In her research, she’d learned that early pagan children would sing for their treats as well as dress as a departed loved one. She shook her head as she turned back toward her destination: a lot of the celebration had changed, but much had stayed the same as well.

She entered Potter Cottage and stopped just inside the front door: the place hadn’t changed a lot other than from weather damage. The magic surrounding the place had kept things from rotting away, which was sad, really, she thought: things should be allowed to go the way nature had intended, but the state of the first place Harry had ever called home would suit her purposes quite nicely.

She took out her wand and used several cleaning charms to clear away brush and debris the animals and wind had deposited around the spot where James Potter had fallen, took out her chalk and proceeded to make a ritual circle and place the runes she’d worked out that she would need to use in order for the ritual to work to best effect.

She retrieved Dobby’s body from the spot where she’d put him earlier in the day and placed him in the center of the circle. 

Before her ritual cleansing, Hermione removed the turnips and gourds she’d hollowed out and carved and placed them around the perimeter of the room, placing a tea light candle in each and lighting it.

She then took out the feast she’d prepared for the dead, and the bottle of the best Ogden’s finest she could afford, and put them in the circle next to Dobby, along with a shot glass so she could imbibe a bit before starting.

Hermione took a deep breath and blew it out slowly: she was nervous. She’d never cast a ritual circle before, never been part of one someone else had cast, and didn’t know who to ask if she’d gotten things right. She took off her cloak, shivering in the chilly air, and cast the charms required for cleansing herself before totally disrobing and casting another cleansing charm designed for use in spaces without a ritual cistern, this one was a mist she had to walk through in order to cleanse her mind and soul of any impurities before casting her circle.

Hermione placed her candles, using a good old fashioned muggle compass to determine the four cardinal points: green to the north for the Earth, yellow to the east for Air, orange to the south for Fire, and blue to the west for Water.

She then took out an athame she’d taken from the Potter vault, one which apparently went back generations in the family, at least according to information Harry had been able to gather from his grandfather, entered the circle from the east and placed it on the ground next to Dobby.

Hermione cast a tempus charm and saw she still had some time to go before she needed to begin her ritual, so she sat down on the floor next to Dobby, opened the bottle of Ogden’s and poured herself a shot: she had no intention of actually getting drunk since she wanted to do the ritual properly, but a little relaxation wouldn’t hurt, and it was Pagan tradition to get drunk on Samhain, so she figured a shot or two would help her relax and appease the gods.

Finally, when the time reached the appointed hour, she returned to the east, lit the white candle with a puff of magic and intoned, “Guardians of the East, I call upon you to watch over the rites of this ritual. Powers of knowledge and wisdom, guided by Air, I ask that you keep watch over me tonight within this circle. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in perfect love and perfect trust.” She felt the wind stirring, blowing gently in answer to her call.

She moved to the south and lit the orange candle, “Guardians of the South, I call upon you to watch over the rites of this ritual. Powers of energy and will, guided by Fire, I ask that you keep watch over me tonight within this circle. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in perfect love and perfect trust.” The air around the circle, which had been chilly to begin with, warmed slightly, happy to once again be called to aid a witch in such a hallowed space.

Hermione then moved to the west and lit the blue candle, “Guardians of the West, I call upon you to watch over the rites of this circle. Powers of passion and emotion, guided by Water, I ask that you keep watch over me tonight within this circle.  Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in perfect love and perfect trust.” A mist sprung up, seemingly from the floor, and surrounded the circle, keeping Hermione safe within it.

She then moved to the north and lit the green Earth Candle, “Guardians of the North, I call upon you to watch over the rites of this ritual. Powers of endurance and strength, guided by Earth, I ask that you keep watch over me tonight within this circle.  Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in perfect love and perfect trust.” Hermione felt strength enter her body in answer to her call. She staggered when the emotions she’d been suppressing over the last year slammed into her, but the brightest, by far was happiness. Her energy levels and will to accomplish something which hadn’t been attempted in many hundreds of years increased exponentially as the knowledge to complete the ritual, knowledge which had been missing from the books she’d read, made itself known to her.

Hermione then moved to the center of the circle and picked up the athame and drew a line across the palm of her wand hand, wincing a bit at the momentary bite of pain. She returned to the east and let a drop of her blood drip onto the candle, “Guardian of the East, I entreat you, and offer this sacrifice of my life’s blood to grant my wish tonight.” She moved to each of the cardinal points in turn and repeated her sacrifice before moving to the body of Dobby, “Lady Magic,” she said as she repeated the slash across her palm, “I entreat thee to accept my sacrifice and grant my wish tonight,” several drops of blood fell onto Dobby’s face. 

With a great whoosh of air an ethereal being appeared before her. The being shone brightly with a bright light: it’s gown was the yellow of the candle of the East, it’s hair was the orange of the candle for South, its eyes were the blue of the West, and it’s hair was the green of the Northern candle.

Hermione fell to her knees, “My Lady Magic,” she said respectfully, if a little awed.

“Rise, child of magic,” Lady Magic said, her voice diaphanous: light and airy and seemed to go right through Hermione’s soul. As Hermione stood, Lady Magic continued, “you know what you are asking of me this night.” Hermione nodded in answer to that which was not really a question, “and you are prepared to make a sacrifice to make it so?”

Hermione nodded again, “Yes ma’am.”

“I know he is the Master of Death. He brought together the three things which should have stayed apart, and would have if the need wasn’t so great that they were required. In partial payment I will take the three Hallows and destroy them so they may cause no more trouble in this realm, or any other.” She waved her hand and the Resurrection Stone, the invisibility cloak and the Elder Wand appeared between them, “You must take each one and hand it to me.”

Hermione obeyed without question. She took the Stone, looked at it briefly, and held it out to Lady Magic, “I sacrifice this stone so that my wish may be granted this night,” she’d said: the stone turned back to a river stone and became dust in her hand.

Hermione then grasped the Elder Wand and held it out to Lady magic by the tip, “I sacrifice this wand so that my wish may be granted this night.” The wand turned back into a simple stick and fell to the floor, shattering on impact.

Lastly, she took the one thing she knew Harry would miss the most when he returned, the cloak, “I sacrifice this cloak so that my wish may be granted this night.” The shimmering material turned into a simple piece of black cloth and fluttered away on the breeze which was still blowing.

Lady Magic smiled then, a beautific smile which seemed to make the air around them warm even more. “Your wish shall be granted my child,” she said as she left the circle in the same way she’d entered it.

Hermione crumpled to the ground, magically and mentally exhausted and promptly passed out.

She woke what felt like only moments later, her circle was still going strong: Lady Magic had used her own magic to maintain the circle so her children would remain safe until Hermione could dismiss the circle on her own. She immediately stood and went to the east and each point in turn and thanked each element for its help, finally ending in the centre where she knelt and thanked the Great Lady for honouring her sacrifices and granting her wish then closed the circle. The magic of the circle dissipated as Hermione looked down at what had been Dobby.

The eyes opened and the brilliant green eyes peered out at her. A hand reached up and caressed her cheek. The face smiled happily, “I can feel you again!” He’d exclaimed. 

“Oh Harry!” Hermione cried as she hugged him tight, happy to feel his hard body within her arms again.

Harry looked around the room and frowned, “you used my parents house?” He questioned.

Hermione nodded, “yeah. The ritual called for the place where it all began, and the body of one who loved you unselfishly, unreservedly as you know since you showed me where Dobby was buried.”

Harry nodded, “I know. Just surprised to wake up here I guess.” He then spotted some of the funny faces she’d carved on the gourds around the room and laughed, “I never knew you were an artist Hermione,” he’d said with a hearty laugh as he pointed to one particularly garish mini-pumpkin.

She laughed with him and punched him lightly on the arm, “hush you,” she said, noticing that the candles were starting to sputter as they burned the last of the wick. “It seems I’ve been here for at least four hours,” she said as she got up to put out the last of the flickering flames, “these were four hour candles and they’ve mostly burned out.”

Harry tried to get up, but his knees buckled under him, landing him squarely back on the floor, then his skin started to ripple and hurt like it had when he’d used PolyJuice Potion back in second year, “Mi,” he’d said but his voice came out much higher than his natural speaking voice, startling them both. “Mi? What’s happening to me? Surely Lady Magic isn’t taking back your wish so soon!”

Hermione regarded Harry as his size and shape shifted and changed from the mid-height young man she’d known, to the green-grey skin, floppy ears and bulging eyes of a house elf! A piece of parchment drifted on the air current and landed at Hermione’s feet, she picked it up and sighed once she’d read it, “Oh Harry! I’m so sorry! Lady Magic  **did ** say that the hallows were only a partial payment, but this?” She motioned to his new form, “this is the rest of the payment. You’ll only have a human form from the evening of Hallowe’en to the evening of the Day of the Dead.”

  
  



End file.
